


When the Dead Come Knocking

by cristianoronaldo



Category: Football RPF, Sports RPF
Genre: F/M, M/M, Post-Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-04
Updated: 2013-07-04
Packaged: 2017-12-17 15:06:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/868919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cristianoronaldo/pseuds/cristianoronaldo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The state's most prominent zombie killers join forces to eradicate the undead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When the Dead Come Knocking

**Author's Note:**

> lmao I wrote most of this at 2 am. It's not to be taken too seriously.   
> ***TITLE borrowed from an episode of The Walking Dead

001 Meeting 

 

The road’s been empty for years, and that’s why Sergio takes it. He rides a white horse with blood smeared on her coat because they call him Vampire and they say he looks like a horse with a face like that, so he thinks he should indulge them a little bit. He’s already their nightmare. 

 

He doesn’t kill people. No one believes that, but it’s true. He saves people. After the zombies ravaged the earth and settled in New Mexico (what the fuck though), only a few stragglers were left behind, and he figured it was his responsibility to clear the place out. 

 

He figured, let the zombies have fucking New Mexico. He just wanted his old ranch with his horses and his barmaids and, sure, he had to revert back to the fourteenth century or whatever because most of the technology was wiped out because of the apocalypse or some shit, but he was okay with that. 

 

He’d been hunting zombies for years, and he wanted some peace and quiet. He wanted to rest, to fuck someone, and to forget that a dead corpse had ever chopped off his finger in the first place. 

 

But most of all, he wanted to forget that living people were afraid of him when he only ever re-killed the dead. 

 

He knew the only way to get some rest in this godforsaken (truly in the most literal sense of the word) world was to meet up with the most prominent zombie killers in the state and eradicate the most recent zombie hunting party to wander up California’s spine. 

 

The dust billowed behind him as he rode to the meeting place. 

 

+ 

 

(Nicknames and Other Stories Better Left Untold) 

 

It was a year after the first wave of zombies appeared in Southern California, and Sergio was just enjoying his new life as the newest addition to the Supernatural cast. He hadn’t died yet, no one had even stabbed him yet, the cast was exceedingly warm in welcoming him, the fans loved him... He raised his glass to nothing in particular. 

 

He should have known it was dangerous. There were warnings all over the papers, reports of being attacked in the news, people all over the place getting chopped up and chewed. But he ignored it. He was a star. He was famous. He should have been well protected. 

 

He wasn’t. 

 

Someone got his bodyguards and once they started coming at him with bloodshot eyes and their organs hanging out of their bodies, he thought, _oh shit this is actually happening_. He leapt out of his chair beside the pool, threw his drink at an oncoming corpse, and rushed at the other with the plastic chair in his hand. 

 

He threw it, he smacked the zombie, he tried everything. But, finally, the great big dead body was bearing down on him, choking the life out of him, and all he could do was turn his head and bite deep into the already half-decomposed hand. A thick, gluey blackish-red liquid came seeping out and covered Sergio’s chin. 

 

He bit it in the neck again for good measure. 

 

_Vampire_ , the headlines read. _Vampire_ , they read until reporters were all eaten and Sergio didn’t do a thing to help them. Once no one was alive to report shit, people relied on word of mouth, and Sergio’s reputation got out of hand. 

 

Sergio thought he’d turned after that, after the biting. He almost gave up and killed himself on the spot because he’d rather die than have his flesh decompose like that. Their skin decomposed in _minutes_ after they were zombified and Sergio had just used that great avocado scrub, oh my _god_ , he would not let it go to waste. 

 

So he waited and waited and waited only to realize how the disease was passed on. It was only passed on through the bite (zombie to human), not through zombie blood. 

 

Only hours later did Sergio realize the fastest way to kill a zombie was to slow them down enough to bite them in the neck where they were most vulnerable. 

 

He flashed his teeth. _Vampire_. 

 

+ 

 

Raul knew the zombies were coming before anyone. He didn’t want to hold it over Iker’s head, but Iker had always doubted him and that’s why Raul was Boss and Iker was Partner. 

 

That’s what people called them anyway when they came hurtling past on their motorcycles to save people. When they heard the dull thrum of the engine, the endangered people started to believe they would live. They heard it growing louder and louder and stronger and stronger, and then Raul and Iker would burst through the window or the door or fucking fall through the roof, and everything would be okay. 

 

Raul would start with his signature move, a lovely beheading with a chainsaw and then dropkicking the head out the door where it couldn’t be eaten by another zombie, thus making that zombie stronger. Iker torched the bodies of the headless corpses, and, pyromaniac that he was, he normally ended up setting the house on fire as well. 

 

They wore black, all black, and came riding in on their motorcycles and people could believe they were superheroes. There was even an urban legend going around that they weren’t human. They were aliens or something sent from Mars to save humanity. Iker liked those a lot. Sometimes he encouraged the Mars one. 

 

People could believe they were a lot of things. They could believe they were magic. They watched Boss and Partner ride up on their shiny black motorcycles, calling each other _Boss_ and _Partner_ , wearing tight black leather clothes and black eyeliner. They could believe they were magic, but they couldn’t even guess they were gay? 

 

The world really was falling to pieces. 

 

+ 

 

The red Ferrari was the last to arrive. 

 

Sergio appeared behind a cloud of dust on his white and red horse.  Raul and Iker were already standing in the middle of the crossroads with their eyeliner darker than usual (to appear dramatic, of course, plus the dust was awful for their pores and they had to pull the attention away from their skin and back to their eyes somehow). Even their leather pants were tighter than usual. 

 

They nodded to Sergio in unison, and Sergio slid off his horse. He walked her forward and she sniffed the odd machines curiously. She nodded to Sergio as if to say they were fine, which they so obviously were not seeing as Raul had strapped a chainsaw to his. 

 

They stared at each other in silence. And then they heard it. The low hum of en engine speeding, the dull throbbing of music, someone screaming the lyrics of the song. “So you sit back and wonder why,” someone was screaming over the sound of the car, over the sound of the music, screaming so loud he was begging for a zombie to come out of nowhere to attack him. But he continued: 

 

“I got this fucking thorn in my side

Oh my God, it's a mirage

I'm tellin' y'all, it's a sabotage” 

 

And then the car appeared, speeding around the corner, and it was headed right for them. Sergio’s unnamed horse was spooked by nothing, absolutely nothing, not even a screaming dead body running towards her on fire. But she backed away at the sound of the car and the screaming and the awful screeching of the car as it came to a stop in front of them. 

 

Dust billowed to obscure the face of the driver and, when it finally cleared, almost in slow motion, the driver stood up, pulled off his sunglasses and flashed his shiny, sharp teeth with a grin. 

 

“Cristiano,” Raul said in greeting, his jaw tense. 

 

The other man, wearing a dusty policeman’s uniform, nodded his head in greeting. “Cop,” he corrected, tapping at the gun on his belt like a warning. “A mission calls for some code names. Vampire is Vampire, Boss is Boss, Iker is Princess. And I’m Cop.” 

 

Iker gnashed his teeth angrily at Raul’s side. “I’ll set you on fire,” he warned. 

 

“Uh oh,” Cristiano said softly, moving closer and closer until his face was inches from Iker’s and Raul had his hand on his chainsaw. “Well you might have to.... because I don’t play well with others.”  

 

+ 

 

002 Boss 

 

The first thing Raul forced them to do was “suit up” as he called it. Sergio wasn’t proud of it, but he wore those leather pants and that eyeliner with a religious zeal. Cristiano whined the whole way there. 

 

They ditched the motorcycles and Sergio’s horse. He named her Blood right before he let her go for the last time. He was debating between Horse and Blood, but in the end, she responded to Blood better. He cried a little because he loved that horse, but he loved being alive more and he knew letting her go was necessary. 

 

They squished themselves into Cristiano’s car and they drove until they found signs of zombies. 

 

Fast forward to the zombie running at them, holding a head in his hands, and Cristiano was laughing at Raul’s side, laughing in the face of death and playing with his gun like it was a toy. And Raul believed that zombie-killers could be classified into 2 categories, crazy and fucking crazy, and Cristiano was the latter. 

 

Iker was flicking his lighter and Sergio was sharpening his teeth with the knife. 

 

The zombie ran at them. 

 

Raul stepped forward and his chainsaw thrummed to life. 

 

+ 

 

003 Barbie 

 

She was wearing a short black skintight dress with black heels and a machine gun strapped to her side. She was the prettiest woman any of them had ever seen, and she had a gun pointed at them. 

 

“Is that a knife,” she said, nudging the weapon on Cristiano’s belt, “Or are you just happy to see me?” 

 

She was Russian, and they called her The Woman until she threatened to shoot off their balls. “It’s Irina.” 

 

“Cop,” Cristiano said because they hadn’t really had time for introductions earlier. 

 

“What kind of name is Cop?” She rested her perfect leg on the car, licking her finger before pressing it to a small bruise on her ankle. 

 

“It’s a code name. We don’t deal with real names. Real names mean some form of attachment and after we’re done with this job, we’re done with each other.” He checked over his shoulder to make sure the rest of the group could hear him. “Thank God.” 

 

“Oh,” she said, and a sinister smile appeared. “Then I’m Barbie.” 

 

She puts lipstick on before she kills a zombie, and she leaves a sticky, red kiss behind. Cristiano thinks he might just be in love with her. 

 

“Why did you stay?” he asked one day while they were hunting for the rest of the group. “With us, I mean. Why did you stay?” 

 

There was a sound behind her, and in an instant, she had turned and taken the animal down. She smiled. “Because killing is my profession, and I’m glad the world ended because it was shit anyway.” 

 

Cristiano doesn’t _think_ anymore. He knows. 

 

+ 

 

004 Iker blows shit up 

 

They find a zombie hangout in an abandoned McDonalds. They’ve destroyed the place, and that’s the saddest sight Iker’s seen because he loves burgers, and he’s really fucking tired of eating deer meat and herbs. 

 

The zombies took his burgers. He’ll take their lives. 

 

He flicked his lighter. 

 

The place burned, and he smiled as everyone but Raul surveyed him warily. “Fire makes me happy,” he said a little dreamily. 

 

+ 

 

005 Blood and Endings 

 

They’re almost done clearing all the zombies out by the time winter hits. They hit five major zombie hangouts and Iker torched them all. He was having the time of his life, and he was the only one. He had the most kills under his belt thanks to the fires, and the rest of them were growing restless. 

 

Sergio was growing restless to go home. He just wanted to be alone, and he wanted his horse back, and he hated traveling in a car. He wanted his normal post-apocalypse life back, and he wanted to take off the damn eyeliner. He wore the shit out of it earlier, but now it was just making his eyes sting. 

 

Cristiano was growing restless because there wasn’t enough activity. Watching Iker burn things wasn’t exactly the most interesting thing to do. Staring at Irina was, but he had to force himself to look away. She was restless for the same reason, and they’d agreed to stay together after the zombie-killers broke up and scattered. They’d agreed to head to New Mexico and see how many they could pick off before they were killed. They had an “I’ll kill you if you turn” pact, and it was the most romantic thing Cristiano had ever been part of. 

 

By the time they burn the sixth and seventh hideouts, Sergio is done with hunting in general, and he brushes his teeth without sharpening them for the first time in a long time. He starts to whistle for his horse again because the seventh was the last known hideout and the zombies were meant to be gone, and he wanted Blood back. 

 

He whistled. She didn’t return. 

 

Iker puts down his lighter for the first time in months. Raul sets aside his chainsaw. They wear sweats for the first time in years. They agree to never go back to New Mexico because they’d already spent a year trying to save the place, but it was too far gone. They agree to build a real home for survivors in an attempt to rebuild humanity. They agree it won’t work, but they agree to try. 

 

It’s their last night together, and they haven’t really grown any closer in words but Sergio knows there are four others who would gladly take a swipe at his face if he ever went the undead route. And if that wasn’t friendship, he didn’t really know what was. 

 

Cristiano and Irina leave the next morning for New Mexico and Sergio thanks them for helping clear out the area. They shake hands. They use their names for the first time because no one feels like their nickname anymore. 

 

Raul and Iker leave next, on foot and regretting the fact that they ever ditched their motorcycles so long ago. They bitch and moan as they leave, and Iker puts on some eyeliner and shoves his lighter in his pocket. Raul carries his chainsaw, but for the first time, he seems reluctant to use it. 

 

Sergio is alone in the woods. He whistles. 


End file.
